


Gumbo therapy

by theseatheseatheopensea



Category: X-Men: The Animated Series
Genre: Bickering, Comfort Food, Friendship, Friendship Fic Fest, Gen, gumbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 02:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18401642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseatheseatheopensea/pseuds/theseatheseatheopensea
Summary: Logan hates mosquitoes. And gumbo. And especially friendship.(Or: a very short and silly comfort food fic.)





	Gumbo therapy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this prompt](https://ruuger.dreamwidth.org/1054506.html?thread=5995818#cmt5995818).

The weather is sticky and damp and heavy. There is a sunset and a lazy, warm breeze and mosquitoes. And Logan resists the urge to scratch his wounds.  
  
It figures. It figures the damn Cajun would have brought him here to hide and heal and rest. Here, wherever _here_ is. He supposes it's somewhere in the annoying deep south LeBeau is always blabbering on about. For the time being, it has to be enough.  
  
Logan frowns, almost out of habit. He is surrounded by discarded, empty beer cans. The breeze picks up and it seems to cling to him, and goddamnit, his wounds itch and hurt and sting. And the mosquitoes bother him more than they should. He growls at one that has dared to land on his left arm, and swats at it with way more force than necessary. Well, probably. He sure doesn't care.  
  
"Now, what did that poor thing ever do to you, hmm?" LeBeau approaches him, a small smile in his face. He is carrying fresh bandages and Logan wants to swat at him too. He is angry, probably at himself, but LeBeau doesn't need to know that. It might make his smile wider. Or, worse, it might make him look at Logan with pity, and he can't bear the idea of _that_.  
  
He keeps on frowning, but stays silent as LeBeau cleans his wounds and fixes his bandages. For a short time, there is no teasing, no conversation, no noise. Nothing but the warm air and the falling night. Logan supposes it's OK.  
  
And then, of course, the Cajun has to open his mouth and ruin it. "If you frown so much, your face will get stuck like that! Come inside, will you? Dinner is waiting. I'll share the gumbo with you. _Only_ if you stop frowning."  
  
In spite of himself, Logan feels a smile creeping on his face, so he has to frown even deeper. "Shut up," he growls. But he walks inside, ignoring LeBeau's self-satisfied smile. He adds another "shut up" for extra measure. He glares. He hates gumbo anyway. And he hates friendship. Really, he _does_.


End file.
